


We're Just Twenty

by hopingforaword



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Background Relationship(s) - Freeform, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, HP: EWE, Implied/Referenced Promiscuity, Insecurity, M/M, Post-Hogwarts, bisexual!Draco, bisexual!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-08
Updated: 2016-12-08
Packaged: 2018-09-07 05:22:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8784751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopingforaword/pseuds/hopingforaword
Summary: Harry Potter had never thought he was particularly good looking. Between his unruly hair, his prominent scar, and his uneven complexion, looking at himself in a mirror had never cheered him up. All the girls pouring over him in sixth year had only made him more conscious of all his tiny flaws. The first thing that had actually made him feel as gorgeous as his friends claimed he was had been spending the year he turned nineteen hopping from club to club with a different partner every night.





	

Harry Potter had never thought he was particularly good looking. Between his unruly hair, his prominent scar, and his uneven complexion, looking at himself in a mirror had never cheered him up. All the girls pouring over him in sixth year had only made him more conscious of all his tiny flaws. The first thing that had actually made him feel as gorgeous as his friends claimed he was had been spending the year he turned nineteen hopping from club to club with a different partner every night. Harry had quite enjoyed himself, but he was nearing twenty and as Hermione said, "It's high time to grow up." Harry had wanted to argue, scream that he just wanted to be normal for once, whine that his childhood had been spent serving his own family and his adolescence had been spent fighting a war, but his words had died at the look on Hermione and Ron's faces. They weren't just disapproving of Harry's behavior, they were scared. So he had nodded and agreed to whatever crazy plan Hermione and Ron had come up with to get him to "grow up and settle down." Harry didn't see what the connection was, but figured he should humor his best friends. 

Which is exactly how Harry found himself standing in front of Hermione's bedroom mirror trying desperately to flatten his hair. "I still don't understand why you think me going on a date with Malfoy is a good idea."

Hermione sighed. "Like we said, Blaise and Pansy think it's a good idea."

"Ooo Blaise and Pansy," Harry said mockingly, "well if beloved Blaise and perfect Pansy think it's a good idea, I should get right on it. When did they stop being Zabini and Parkinson?" Harry looked over his shoulder in the mirror and grinned at the identical blushes on Hermione and Ron's faces. They had spent three months together before realizing they wanted completely different things in life. After their eighth year, Hermione and Blaise had started interning at the Office for Magical Law Enforcement and gotten into several rather heated arguments before making out over a case file. Ron had grudgingly given his blessing and Harry, who had just discovered the joys of clubbing, hadn't particularly cared. When Pansy started working at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, specializing in selling and developing Wonder Witch products, Ron had repeatedly pointed out that she wasn't as awful as she had been and she was a lot prettier than he'd noticed in school until Hermione had finally shouted at him to ask her out or stop talking about it. It seemed funny that with all the time Harry was forced to spend with Blaise and Pansy, he had barely seen Draco since school. 

"Why do they think we'll be a good fit anyway?" Harry said, struggling to decide how many buttons he should leave open on his shirt. 

"You both have nothing better to do and let's not pretend that your little rivalry wasn't caused by repressed feelings," Hermione said. She paused before adding, "And you've been up to the same things since we graduated."

"Wha—"

"He's been a slag too, mate," Ron said bluntly. Hermione looked offended but Harry shrugged. The  _ Daily Prophet _ may not have published gossip anymore, but that didn't stop  _ Witch Weekly _ and all the new gossip magazines from reporting Harry's many dalliances. People were torn between shock at Harry's unexpected behavior and distrust in the publications. From what Harry had read, the publications were right about half the time. 

This wasn’t the first time Hermione, Ron, Pansy, and Blaise had tried to get Harry and Draco to spend time with them and each other. Invariably, Draco had gone off to the loo or the bar after a drink or two and his friends had been unsuccessful at finding him at the end of the night. At least, that's what the other four had told Harry. Harry had also done more than his fair share of disappearing during these nights out. 

After one such night Harry and Hermione had had a particularly nasty screaming match. He had arrived at Grimmauld Place (which he, Ron, and Hermione were sharing) around 9 the next morning and found Hermione sitting just inside the door waiting for him.

“Where have you been?” she had shouted almost as soon as the door had opened.

“Quiet down Hermione,” Harry had said, putting a hand to his temple as he shut the door, “I’m pretty sure they heard you in Sydney.”

“I will not quiet down! We have been worried all night. Where have you been?”

Harry had looked her in the eye, one eyebrow raised. “Out.”

Hermione growled with an anger Harry had never heard before. “Out where?”

Thoroughly confused, Harry had smirked and winked. Hermione had still looked furious, so Harry had said, “Out with a man.”

Hermione’s eyes had opened even further before she had screamed, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?”

At that moment, Ron had come hurtling down the stairs and almost crashed into Harry. “What’s going on?”

“Harry, why don’t you tell Ron where you’ve been?”

Harry, who was terrified and confused by Hermione’s anger, had turned to Ron and said, “I was out with a guy.”

Ron had looked from Harry to Hermione and said, “Okay. Why is Hermione losing her mind?”

She had shrieked and shouted, “He could have been dead! No messages, no warning, just gone and then walking back in here like no big deal–”

“It’s my house Hermione,” Harry had cut across her, starting to get annoyed himself, “and I’ll do what I want thank you very much.”

“You have to be careful Harry! You can’t pull this kind of crap.”

Harry had made a noise halfway between a laugh and a snarl. “I’m sick and fucking tired of people telling me what to do. I’ve done what everyone said I had to for seventeen years. I’m done letting you and the Ministry and Dumbledore and Merlin knows who else boss me around Hermione. I’m going to do what I want.”

“Aren’t you worried about the gossip?”

“I didn’t give a shit then, am I supposed to care now? Maybe they’ll get it right for once.”

Hermione had cocked her head and squinted at Harry as if she’d never really seen him before. “You’re fine with  _ Witch Weekly _ and everyone else printing what you really get up to?”

Harry had finally lost it. “You’re right Hermione, I’m really fucking terrified that the whole wizarding world is going to know how much of a mess their Chosen One is. Maybe it’ll even get them to stop idolizing their heroes.” Ron had opened his mouth, but Harry hadn’t finished. “I’m sorry I’m a big, disgusting slag, but we can’t all find true love a year out of Hogwarts like you two. And if you really don’t like it, you can leave. At least be glad I didn’t bring him here.” Harry had stalked off to his room, grabbed a joint and a lighter off of his desk, and sat up on the roof of Grimmauld Place. Harry didn’t smoke often. He only did it when he needed to calm down or avoid something, and right then, he had been doing both.

After that, Hermione and Ron had both skirted around the topic, trying not to make Harry angry, but that didn’t stop him from noticing the looks they exchanged when he showed up just in time for breakfast, his neck painted with hickeys, or when he walked people out of the building around ten in the morning, and the pointed way they had stopped asking how his night went. They didn’t want to know about this part of Harry’s life, and it angered Harry more than he would’ve admitted. His friends had been there for everything and now, when something good, something  _ great _ , was finally happening to him, they didn’t want to be involved.

 

Harry walked into the bar, glad he had let Hermione and Pansy choose a place. He spotted Draco and sat down next to him, opening his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything Draco said, “This doesn't mean I'm going to have sex with you Potter.”

Harry laughed. “What makes you think I want to?”

Draco turned to face him and cocked an eyebrow. “Patterns suggest that you would.”

“I don't just—”

“Please Potter,” Draco said, laughing, “you'd jump on anything that said yes. Ten people in two months isn't a habit, it's a compulsion.”

Rolling his eyes, Harry said, “Like you're one to talk anyway.” Draco smiled like he had expected Harry to bring up that very point. “What's funny?”

“You're predictable.”

Harry looked at Draco, biting back a retort before he started to laugh. 

“What's so funny?” Draco asked indignantly. 

Harry shook his head. “The war is over, we have more in common than not, and we're still fighting like we're in school.” Harry sighed. “It's nice to know not everything changed.”

Draco looked at him, his half smirk shifting to something like concern. “It's all really different for you, isn't it?”

“I mean I spent most of my life fighting a genocidal maniac or being treated like a house elf, so I was really looking forward to having some fun after the war. Being young, you know? But then Hermione and Ron had to ‘grow up’ and ‘settle down.’” He sighed hard, but didn't say anything else. 

“I take it Hermione and Ronald gave you the same speech Blaise and Pansy gave me about being more mature and finding someone reliable?” Harry nodded and Draco scoffed. “Ridiculous. We're twenty years old, and only just, but I'm supposed to settle into a boring life with a boring husband?”

“Husband?” Harry asked.

“I could have a wife, I suppose,” Draco said, swirling the drink in his glass. “Men and women both have their charms, but I've always slightly preferred men.” He took a quick sip. “How about you?”

Harry shrugged. “No preference.” He put a hand up to signal for the bartender, but Draco passed him a glass. Harry eyed it, slightly wary. 

“Trust me Potter?”

“Yes.” The truth startled Harry as much as it seemed to startle Draco. 

 

Harry was thoroughly surprised at how much he enjoyed spending time with Draco. Three hours later, the two of them were shrugging on their coats. Harry was tempted to ask Draco to go back to with him to Grimmauld Place, but Draco’s first words to Harry when he had walked in were reverberating in Harry’s head. Before he could reach any kind of decision, Draco looked at Harry and shyly asked, “Do you want to come back to my place with me?”

Harry smiled. “I’d like that.”

Draco smiled back and the two men stepped out into the cold street. Draco tentatively grabbed Harry’s hand and pulled him through the uncomfortable twist of Apparition to Draco’s flat.

After taking off his jacket and toeing off his shoes, Harry barely had time to register that Draco’s flat was nice without being extravagant before Draco jumped on him.

Kissing Draco was like nothing Harry had ever experienced. He let Draco pull him into the master bedroom as he bit at Draco’s lips and unbuttoned his shirt. Harry pushed Draco onto the bed, and leaned forward, lips pressing into the crook of Draco’s neck, hands stroking Draco’s tight, pale abs. Draco groaned into Harry’s mouth and ran his fingers down Harry’s back, grabbing the bottom of his shirt. He pulled back from Harry’s mouth to yank Harry’s shirt over his head and throw his own button down somewhere.

Their socks and trousers followed in quick succession and Draco flipped them over so he was straddling Harry’s hips. Draco dragged his tongue down the center of Harry’s chest before moving to suck on one of his nipples, grinning at the small moan that escaped Harry’s mouth. As he sucked on Harry’s nipple, Draco’s hand trailed down Harry’s torso to his boxers. Harry gasped and Draco grinned as he slipped his hand into Harry’s boxers.

Harry groaned at the feeling of Draco’s hand on his erection, and Draco moaned slightly in response. It had been too long since he’d gotten someone into his bed. Sure, it had been two weeks, but that was too long for Draco. 

Draco barely resisted when Harry flipped him back onto his back and kissed him hard, rolling his hips into Draco’s. Both men moaned at the friction and Harry pulled away to whisper in Draco’s ear, “I’ve never been good at taking things slowly.”

Harry licked a stripe up Draco’s neck that made him close his eyes and arch up off the mattress. “Fuck, Harry, fuck me.”

Harry grinned wolfishly and said, “Magical or Muggle?”

Draco pointed at a bedside table. “There’s Muggle stuff in the drawer.” At Harry’s raised eyebrows, Draco said, “I like the intimacy.” 

Harry leaned over to reach into the drawer and grabbed a condom and a bottle of lube that he threw onto the bed as he leaned down to kiss Draco. He tugged at the waistband of Draco’s boxers, and Draco wiggled out of them before pushing Harry’s boxers down his hips. Harry kicked his boxers off and pulled Draco’s ankles onto his shoulders. He reached for the bottle and coated two fingers with lube. Harry teased Draco’s rim gently before pushing a finger in, both men groaning. Harry watched Draco’s face contort as he massaged Draco’s walls before he slowly added a second finger, Draco mumbled something and Harry tilted his head, pausing. “What?”

“Now,” Draco whined, “Now, Harry, now.”

“Are you sure?”

Draco nodded. “I like when it burns a little. Now, please.”

Harry pulled his fingers out and opened the condom, rolling it on and coating his erection with lube before gently and slowly pushing into Draco. He stilled for a moment, waiting for Draco’s reaction, and smiled when Draco gasped, “Now now now Harry please.”

Harry was unable to resist and began slowly thrusting before Draco grabbed his shoulders, pulling him closer, and whispered, “If you don’t pick up the goddamn pace, I’m going to hex you until you can never orgasm again, Potter.”

Harry’s cock twitched at Draco’s threat, and he began thrusting in and out of Draco at a pace that was shaking Draco’s bed. Draco’s words had degenerated into groans and the occasional whisper of, “Fuck, Harry.” Harry was quiet in bed, but he was breathing heavily. He reached down and gently stroked Draco’s erection. Draco screamed as he came over Harry’s hand, and the contractions of his tight passage around Harry led to Harry coming immediately after.

Draco collapsed backwards as Harry gently pulled out, removing the condom and wrapping it in a tissue he found on Draco’s nightstand.

“So much for not sleeping with me,” Harry laughed as he collapsed next to Draco on the mattress, both men sweating and panting. 

Draco laughed half-heartedly. He was silent before he said, “I’ve never had the self control to deny myself anything I really wanted, and I’ve wanted to sleep with you since fourth year.”

“Really? Well, then I guess finally noticing you in sixth year makes me a little late to the party then, huh?” Harry laughed. “It was worth the wait though, wouldn’t you say?”

“Eh,” Draco said, shrugging as he smirked at Harry, “It was alright.”

Harry smacked him with a throw pillow that had been haphazardly knocked onto the floor. “Please, like you weren’t gagging for it ten minutes ago. You were  _ begging _ me for it.”

Draco shrugged again. “So I was really excited to sleep with someone I’ve wanted to fuck for six years. Sue me, Harry. Sex is fun.”

Harry nodded. “Maybe if Hermione and Ron and Pansy and Blaise understood that a little more, they’d understand you and me a lot more.”

Draco stiffened and turned slightly away from Harry. “Oh. I see.” He shifted in the bed to grab Harry’s boxers off the floor and throw them at him. “I have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Harry took the boxers from Draco. “I just thought, you know, you might, maybe–”

“I might what? Might want to go again? I’m not just something that you can use however you want, Potter. I’m a real person.” Draco’s eyes glistened with moisture in the half light of his bedroom. “I don’t need you of all people calling me a slag.”

“Draco,” Harry whispered, “I wasn’t going to say that at all. I was going to say, I thought maybe you might want to go out again sometime, because I really enjoyed tonight. All of it. Don’t get me wrong, the sex was great, but I also enjoyed just talking to you in the bar, getting to know you better.”

Draco searched Harry’s eyes, before swooping forward to kiss Harry. “Yes, absolutely. I’d really like that. That sounds amazing.” He paused, looking down at his mattress. “Especially if we can keep having sex.”

Harry grinned. “So can I stay?”

“Get your ass back here Potter.” He grabbed Harry’s bare shoulders and tugged Harry on top of him.

 

“I knew it!” Pansy shouted. Harry and Draco woke up cuddled around each other to see Pansy and Hermione standing at the foot of Draco’s bed.

“When are we wrong about these two?” Hermione asked. “The question is, did they talk about things and agree to work and try an actual relationship, or did they just fuck until they passed out?”

“Both,” Draco mumbled, his eyes still closed. “What possessed you two to come into my flat?”

“Well, Harry didn’t come home last night,” Hermione said, “and Pansy said she hadn’t gotten her usual post-date debrief from you, so we put two and two together and came here.”

“Now,” Harry grumbled, “If the two of you lovely ladies could leave so Draco and I can fuck again, that would be fantastic.”

“Not until you admit we were right,” Hermione prodded.

“Fine, you, Blaise, and Pansy were right,” Harry sighed, “But unless you want to watch me take Draco apart, I suggest you leave.”

Hurried footsteps and the distinct sound of Disapparition made the two men sure that Hermione and Pansy had left. Draco pounced on Harry and kissed his sloppily. “Are you really going to?”

Harry rolled them over and tugged on Draco’s lip. “Yes.”

 

Two months later, Harry and Draco were spending as much time at each other’s houses as at their own. Before Draco, Harry had been too preoccupied with messing around at clubs to ever think about how often his “domesticated” friends might have been having sex, and maybe  _ they _ weren’t having sex that often, but  _ Harry and Draco _ , in the spare moments between work and dinner dates and nights out with their friends, were constantly in bed. And if they weren’t in bed, they were having fun some other way, something neither of them had previously thought truly possible.

Maybe twenty was an okay time to settle down a little, and maybe settling down with someone didn’t have to mean changing. Maybe it meant finding someone that loved you the way you were.

**Author's Note:**

> Reach me at [hopingforaword.tumblr.com](hopingforaword.tumblr.com) or [hermionejeangranger.tumblr.com](hermionejeangranger.tumblr.com)


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